"Ghar toh nahi gaya par Kashmir zaroor gaya," says Pooran. "I was the first in my family to go, in 1999. I'd gone with a friend to attend another friend's wedding. The latter was a Sikh, his family hadn't left the valley in all the years of militancy. They village where they lived was entire- ly Sikh and when we reached at night they were shocked to see us. The Muslims at the wedding must have assumed we too are Muslim they were taken aback when we ate all the meat dishes later when they realized we are Pandits they were very happy. At night we crept with them into some orchards near by and stole apples, it was fun... In 2008 it was even better. I did not go home even that time but reached up to Deedarpora.
I'd gone for just three or four days, it didn't feel strange in the least."
Motilal Kardar too has been to Srinagar but like Pooran he never managed to make the journey home. The first time was in 2000 when he went up to Anantnag and stayed there eleven days.
Then in 2002, upon retire- ment, he went again to col- lect his papers. This time he stayed a whole month in his qasbah but still did not go home to his village. In 2006, the government sent a team comprising representatives from all the camps on a 35 days tour of all districts to assess the mood on the ground about the return of Kashmiri Pandits. "They welcomed us. They said they would welcome us when we return for good. That tour cleared a misconception. The bridge, the Muzafarrabad bridge - I always thought it was on the Jehlum, but it is not on the river, it is on a Nallah," concludes Motilal with evident surprise.
And then there is Arun Arun who went back to Kashmir for work and lived in Srinagar for a year.
Recounting the events of his first visit to the valley post migration, Arun says, "On the Banihal curve there was a jam. We were trapped for 6 hours. Just as we crossed the tunnel we saw the bus that had been blown up with its passengers, the families of security men who were going home. Woh bhayankar nazara tha. We reached Srinagar at 10 pm. There was a red alert all over the city."
Arun is the only member in the Kardar family who knows Srinagar like the back of his hand. As someone who was very young during migration but who went back to live and work in the city, his relationship with Kashmir is devoid of nostal- gia yes, he had a great time in Srinagar, yes he made many friends in Kashmir with whom he traveled to remote areas, yes they had a lot of fun. There was no fear really, except that one time when they were returning to the city at nightfall and a group of plainclothesmen surrounded their car and stood with their rifles point- ing straight at them. " At first I thought they were mil- itants but then realized they were army men in plain- clothes they stood that way for the longest time and we were shit scared. They cir- cled the vehicle and then started questioning us. It looked like our time was up.
Thankfully I had my card with my name on it Arun Kardar. When they were done with us we sped away as fast as we could. After we'd gone some distance, the driver abruptly stopped the vehicle. He was shaking as he hugged and thanked me profusely, saying, `Aapka Arun ki jagah Haroun naam hota toh aaj hum kaam se gaye hote." They were from the Rashtriya Rifles.
"I used to go to remote vil- lages," continues Arun, "peo- ple liked the fact that a Pandit has come...I made some good friends, we are still in touch. I'm the only one in my family who has spent time in Srinagar, I can go there anytime."
And what about going home? You said your house has been converted into an army barrack...
"When the army's occupied it what can one do?" says Radha. And have they given you any compensation? "The home has been dismantled and built over so there's no question of compensation.
They give compensation only in cases of arson," says Motilal wryly.
While the house is gone the land is still there, approxi- mately 20 canals that have been entrusted to another villager. He looks after what remains of the walnut trees, the apple orchards having been destroyed a long time back. While many Pandit families whose land and houses have similarly been occupied by the forces receive rent for the use of the prem- ises, the Kardars still seem unsure of whether they should file a claim.
"Gai, murgi, kutte, sab chhodke aaye..." says Radha, "People said `don't take any- thing heavy, you have to return in two months'. We took only bed sheets and other light stuff and came away."
So will you go back, for good? It is Motilal who answers. "Hamara asli ghar toh wahan hai, yahan toh sirf kirayedaar hain. See, its like this...let me tell you a story. In Kathua camp where we lived many years, a young son of a Sardar family had died. After a few years, when the camp was moved to Nagrota, the mother said, `I won't leave, my son will be alone here.' Exactly on the day the final orders for shift- ing came, she died. This attachment was just twenty years old whereas our entire life has passed in Kashmir.
Hum thodi chhodenge kash- mir ko..hamari toh zindagi guzari hai wahan" "Hamari yahan guzari hai, aapki wahan..." Arun play- fully counters, to which Motilal responds, "Jammu waale ek din dande maarke bhaga denge toh kahan jaayenge?" Arun however has the last word, "Aur wahan kashmir wale bhagaa denge phir koi aur jagah dhoondhni padegi...aur aisa hee chalta rahega." Motilal silently stares into the dis- tance.
While the younger genera- tion of Pandits that has grown up in Jammu, like Arun and Pooran, has its sights firmly fixed on the future, it is the people of Motilal's generation who were young men and women when migration happened, that seem caught in a time warp. On the one hand Motilal struggles to cope with his bitterness and frus- tration and on the other one senses a quiet dignity about him, a refusal to see things only in black and white. The swing from hope to despair is quick, helpless. "The situa- tion has been created by political leaders not the com- mon man Farooq and Omar Abdullah, Gilani, Umer Farooq it keeps their money flowing. I went to Kashmir three times and the common people welcomed us.
If the government really wanted us to go back why aren't they building projects like Jagti in Srinagar? We have been labeled `migrants'," he says shaking with grief, " but how are we migrants? We are migrants within our own state, we are internally displaced."
"Father always wanted to go back," says Pooran, "If I can go home, I too would."
"But I wouldn't like to live in a camp," Arun cuts straight to the point, "what's the fun? Besides, if they're building townships for Kashmiris in Matan, Gandarbal, Tulmulla, why are they simultaneously con- structing community halls in the camps here?" "They are saying the camps would be dismantled in a year, toh fun kya hai?" asks Motilal, "If we had returned in one year things could have worked out but now there's a 20 years gap of differences, 101% we can't resettle there again. The gov- ernment does not want us to go back, the JK government does not want Hindus to return. If they had really wanted that they could have ordered Hindu government employees to go to Kashmir, on threat of termination of service."
So do you think this new employment package is a good thing? Will it help the Pandits return?
Again it is Motilal who answers first. "The terms and conditions of the govern- ment package are unfair.
You're like a slave. To my mind it is very clear - Either you shouldn't have moved out... Why did you leave in the first place, it was only because you felt insecure.
You don't know where they will send you now - a remote village perhaps - how secure will it be?" "And the package is not exclusively for Pandits," points out Arun, "it will also benefit Kashmiri Muslim migrants."
Before I can ask if that is a problem, Pooran interjects, "I have a different opinion from my father and brother.
The Muslim community got sandwiched. When I went to Kashmir the second time, we were in Wandrav, and we saw that the generation aged between 14-36 was entirely missing, only women and the aged remain, the rest have either gone for training or have been killed. We also suffered but they suffered much more. My problem is not with that, it is with poli- cies such as the `healing touch' policy where the mes- sage you are sending out is `become a militant, surren- der and get a job'. How do you think we who have spent our whole lives studying to make ourselves capable feel when such policies are made?
About this package, while I feel it's unfair to impose such conditions, I have filled the form. But will my family allow me to go?" Pooran is open to the idea, but Arun is sceptical about going back to settle in the Valley. Like many Pandits of the younger generation who have spent most of their childhood and growing up years in and around Jammu, more at home with Dogri than Urdu or Kashmiri, he feels no connection to Kashmir other than the friendships formed as a pro- fessional living and working in the Valley. In this he is no different from young people in the Valley, the generation that has come of age post '89, who feel no connection with the Pandit community or the shared past their elders sometimes talk about. As Pooran points out, "Their children do not know Pandits, our children do not know Kashmir".
While many Pandits acknowledge that they feel much less fear now than before, while despite his reservations Motilal firmly asserts that Pooran should take up whatever job he gets through the employment package and go back to the Valley, it is this estrange- ment from the other commu- nity that makes the Pandits doubtful of the reception they would get back home. " It is not just the government it is also the people of Kashmir. They welcome you for three days - as a tourist you're also a good source of income. But the new genera- tion, how would they feel?
This situation will never be solved by government poli- cies, what matters is the con- sent of the common person living in this state, be it Pandit or Muslim. But I'm not without hope - things can change through education.
Not through opening schools, but education about Kashmiri culture, the way we used to live."
"We, the people of the two communities, have suffered in our own ways over the past twenty years - not together, separately, but suf- fered all the same. We saw it all together. We saw '89 and '90. They saw entire genera- tions being wiped out. They saw twenty years of ruthless oppression while we saw twenty years of displacement - the term `migrant' is still with us, there is no bonding with the people of Jammu."
Pooran has little use for the past choosing to focus instead on what the Pandit community needs to do to rebuild itself. One of the biggest problems facing the community according to him is the fact that young Pandits do not speak Kashmiri any more. "If we don't talk to our children in Kashmiri, in the next 10-20 years our culture will disap- pear." Here he echoes the fears of all Pandit migrants, young and old. This uproot- ing from the land of one's ancestors, this enforced migration to a foreign land has led to Pandit children growing up less and less Kashmiri. Pooran's mother, Madhu, is worried that young people are increasing- ly marrying outside the com- munity when that happens how long will traditions last?
"Going back is far, right now we're trying to keep the cul- ture alive. It will take anoth- er 20 years," says Motilal.
So what are the chances of going back, I persist.
"See it's like this," says Pooran, "This kind of mili- tant violence is everywhere - in Delhi, Bombay and now Pune. So let's talk business.
A person who was born in `89, how will you motivate him to go back? The younger generation can't go back home unless they are given a conducive environment."
What does this entail?
Does this mean a separate town ship as some Pandit organizations have demand- ed?
"No, not at all. We were tillers when we left. Now I'm a youth with a new vision, I'm educated, cannot take to the plough like my forefa- thers. If I go back, I'll proba- bly start a computer insti- tute or some other enter- prise that will benefit the Valley. All I'm asking for in return is a conducive envi- ronment to work without fear."
There are other changed circumstances that the Pandits will have to adjust to, points out Motilal. "Pahle Hindu hukum chalate the, the muslims used to be labourers on our fields, now you have to stand on your own feet, do everything yourself. I'm not worried about security, it's a short- term need. We will need it to begin with, but not for long.
I am ready to go back now.
In Akura in Anantnag there's a family that never left. They come to Jammu now and then but they never moved here. The govern- ment should give all families belonging to the same dis- trict accommodation in one place. In Kupwara district there are around 20,000 families, if we are all given quarters together I don't think there will be any prob- lem."
Arun takes a different track, "I had a lot of Muslim friends in Kashmir col- leagues, shopkeepers, mili- tants, I knew them all. I was there on August 15 aur uss din main paagal ho gaya.
Meri samajh mein nahi aa raha tha ki main Hindustan mein hun ki kahan hun...right from the 13th or 14th the hotel chap started telling me `aapko joh order karma hai abhi kar lo...' I don't think even in Pakistan the situation would be such.
At the company where I used to work, once when India won a cricket match I sent a congratulatory mes- sage to all my friends and colleagues. One of my col- leagues who was an M.B.A.
earning over Rs. 1 lakh a month said, " Oh batta, why are you sending us this?" I have some friends like that who are happy when India loses but another friend, Fayaz, is happy when India wins. Kishtwar Muslims are different from Kashmiris.
Indian Muslims aur Kashmiriyon mein zameen aasman ka farak hai. Once seeing a dog bark during a India-Pak match, an army officer said in jest, "Yahaan ke kutte bhi Pakistani hain" It was strange but I really enjoyed being there. I've seen militants many times, even interacted with them not knowing they were mili- tants."
"The basic thing is liveli- hood. Why does a person become a militant?" asks Pooran.
But you agree that there is a movement going on in Kashmir for the past twenty years, that if you go back you will have to live with the Muslim majority that still feels alienated from India, I ask.
"We talk of Hitler, how ruthless he was, but there is a reason behind everything, read his `Mein Kampf' and you will know," says Pooran, "If people feel this way it is because of a particular situa- tion that was created. The Pandit minority was just 3- 4% of the population of Kashmir yet the top teach- ers, doctors, secretaries to top politicians were all KP.
Especially in teaching and medicine there was none to beat them."
"They were doctors in the real sense, not MBBS hold- ers," adds Motilal disparag- ingly. "The dominating elite class in Kashmir at one time was KP, the Muslims used to till land for us. There was bound to be resentment."
"What rankled the most," adds Pooran, "especially with the more extreme among the majority community, was the fact that three persons were taking hundred for a ride.
They wanted a change but they were not given an opportunity to do it demo- cratically. Then there was also the fact that KPs used to look down upon Muslims while Muslims used to treat KPs with a great deal of respect. We could freely go to their mosques but they could not come to our temples, could not come to our kitchen, could not eat in our bowls. It was real discrimi- nation that led to fundamen- talism. People hate history as a subject but we need to study history."
"Do you know how this problem was created?" pipes up Motilal, "In the `80s there was a party called MUF Muslim United Front that had become very popular.
When they stood for elections the National Conference rigged the polls in a big way.
The MUF wasn't allowed to come up. If the counting had been right, the MUF would have come to power. So the entire Kashmir problem is a political creation. We fell into the hands of Pakistan.
Pakistan financed it in a big way later."
You know that the popular sentiment is in favour of Azadi, if you go back will you support this?
"A free Kashmir I would support. After all who does- n't want freedom? Let an election take place," says Pooran, as Arun listens qui- etly. "There has to be a revo- lution again. The new gener- ation has to move beyond religion. I say look at it at the human level, not at the level of Muslim, Sikh, Hindu or even Indian. This is not about religions and nations."
"But what kind of inde- pendence are you asking for?
China will grab you in 20 years. Are you going to live on apples?" Motilal inter- jects. "Azadi means you have to be self reliant. When the Khalistan movement started Punjab was self reliant but what can you do with Kashmir where eggs, milk, chicken, vegetables, every- thing comes from outside?
How will they sustain them- selves? What is the road map? Can you survive on walnuts?" "If you're building a house show the ground plan, how you will feed your family.
Even if you're not talking about Azadi, Pakistan is in a worse condition than Kashmir, how will they absorb these Kashmiris? And what will be the geographical extent of Azad Kashmir?
They say free Kashmir. Tell me would China give up the part of Kashmir under its control? Or Pakistan for that matter? The only possibility is the Simla agreement Make the borders straight, that will be a good solution.
Dispute over."
And what about the talk of a Homeland for Kashmiri Pandits?
"I hate these organisa- tions, their motives are sus- pect. This is all show, are they doing anything selfless- ly?" asks Pooran. "For the same reason I don't join com- munities on Facebook, I'm a different kind of Kashmiri Pandit. I believe in tradition, I want to keep it alive. I sup- port people coming together to celebrate festivals so that the younger generation sees where we are from."
A neighbour comes in with walnuts, the customary Prasad that is distributed to friends and family during Shivaratri. It is time for Visarjan and we decide to call it a day. Motilal gets busy removing the flowers from the decorated pots that stand for Shiva, Parvati, Kumar and Ganesh. He and his wife take the pots to the kitchen sink. As Madhu chants, the walnuts are care- fully taken out and washed.
"At home we used to do this at the river but here the Tawi's dry, the Nallah's full of rubbish, so we're left with the sink," says Motilal rue- fully.
Finally Madhu lights the woven grass that formed the seat of the deities and sets it on the balcony ledge looking out over the wasteland. This too should rightfully have been immersed in the river back home.
So where will you build your home, I ask Pooran.
"I like Kathua very much compared to Jammu, it is a small place with friendly people 16 to 17 years is not a small period. I tried a bit to persuade my father to stay in Kathua but he couldn't let go of the allotted quarters.
When I build a home it will be in Kathua."
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